


I can take my clothes off (I cannot fall in love)

by may_tricks



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Slow Build, endgame karmy, fake / pretend relationship, karma is totally in denial, kissing lots and lots of kissing, skinny love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/may_tricks/pseuds/may_tricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, Amy was right along. Karma can’t make Liam fall in love with her and she can’t make herself love him either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can take my clothes off (I cannot fall in love)

**Author's Note:**

> I actually own nothing related to either Faking It or the Rilo Kiley lyrics from which the title of this story was named.

The first time she and Liam kiss, Karma feels like she’s soaring.

Kissing him feels like she’s being lifted right off her feet and flying and falling. She’s never felt anything like it before. In magazines and movies and TV shows the girl always says the guy tastes like something; cigarette smoke, a dab of toothpaste, something, anything. Instead, Karma tastes _slick._ Their kiss tastes wet but it’s good, it’s great, it’s everything she’s ever wanted.

His eyes are closed but it’s like she’s being seen in a brand new light. Someone is _kissing her._ Liam Booker is kissing her, Liam Booker who is best friends with the most popular boy at Hester High, who is thus popular by default. Liam, who all the girls swoon over. Karma is kissing him and he’ll think she’s hot and cool and invite her to even more parties and this will be the best year of her entire life.

Karma’s only kissed one other boy on the lips and that was during a fifth grade birthday party back when everyone’s parents made them invite the entire class to social gatherings. She doesn’t remember his name or anything about him other than the kiss was quick and awkward and felt like she was going to puke the entire time. There was an adage she heard growing up about getting butterflies in your stomach when you’re excited but mostly, Karma felt like she was going to need a doctor. There was _nothing_ exciting about some sweaty kid’s palms damp on her shoulders.

Liam is different though. Everyone thinks he’s sexy and cool and girls line up at the chance to have him for only a night and now he wants Karma, he wants her. It’s electrifying, being wanted. It feels like flying.

All afternoon Karma thinks about her kiss with Liam. It’s probably the most interesting thing that’s happened to her all year (though the year is young, but _still_ ). She wants to yell it from rooftops: “I KISSED LIAM BOOKER.” That, however, would not be one of her wiser decisions. Firstly, she is petrified of heights. Secondly, she’s supposed to be gay and dating Amy. So she can’t tell the whole world that she hooked one the most popular boys at school, but Karma can definitely tell _Amy_.

So she does exactly that.

Almost immediately, she regrets it.

Admittedly, Karma had expected Amy would have taken the news a lot better than she did. She wanted Amy to be equally excited, happy that Karma has skyrocketed herself from social invisibility to hot gossip overnight. Instead, Amy acts _pissed_. Sure, she’s not a fan of the whole fake gay thing, but Amy could at least _pretend_ to be pleased for her best friend. Rather, they end up in a fight. Karma doesn’t figure they’ll stay mad because they never, ever do but mostly because she can’t imagine not being friends with Amy. Don’t get her wrong, Karma’s not some clingy freak who’s obsessed with Amy or anything. She’s independent and she could not be Amy’s friend but in the same way Karma could live without a limb or something. She’d much rather not.

Nonetheless, Karma’s still pissed off about their exchange in the change room after PE. But there’s no one else she can really talk to about the whole mess so she runs into Liam and decides she’ll manage.

It takes some explaining and she doubts that Liam really grasps the severity of the situation but at least he’s listening and that’s nice. He also offers her a bite of his sandwich, which is a perk. She hasn’t tasted peanut butter in a decade. It’s a lot sweeter than she remembers, sticky and smooth at once. She wonders if she kissed Liam right now he would taste sweet too. But thinking about kissing Liam makes Karma think about her fight with Amy and thinking about Amy makes Karma feel so guilty it’s physical.

She starts running but she’s not certain to where. Amy could be anywhere, the campus is big enough for her to find some secluded corner to hide herself away from prying eyes and free baked goods. Karma tastes the peanut butter on her breath and wonders if once she finds Amy she’ll be able to smell it. It’s that thought that inspires Karma to think of how if she did something that went against Amy then Amy probably has the same train of thought. If she’s avoiding Karma then she’d choose the only place Karma would never choose to be, never wander in on by mistake.

“Don’t jump!” Karma calls but she feels her own knees shaking, her heart race picking up.

She’s going to die up here. She can’t handle heights, she really fucking can’t.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Amy responds in that trademark brand of sarcasm Karma knows is second language to Amy now.

It’s better than nothing, Karma assures herself as she crosses the roof to where Amy is sitting, facing away, facing out at the gaping space Karma is sure will swallow her up if she’s not careful.

Whenever Karma isn’t sure of what to say, her mother always tells her to speak honestly, from the heart. When she was younger, Karma’s family used to do an activity called stream of consciousness, which required everyone to write down everything they were thinking without thinking about it. They wrote down what came to mind and they could share afterward if they like. Most often, Karma opted to take her paper upstairs and rip it to shreds, watching the lined paper sprinkle over the garbage can like fake snow in a sno-globe.

Today, Karma speaks every word that pops into her head.

“You’re the Lucy to my Ethel,” she finishes with a note of finality as if she’s just accepted an award and needed to come up with a compelling thank you speech.

Disbelieving, Amy rolls her eyes and corrects Karma by conceding that Karma is in fact Lucy and she is Ethel. Relieved, Karma accepts the admission as restoration.

 

* * *

 

 

Karma’s all set to ‘fess up about everything when Amy gives her an out.

She thinks Amy’s good at that, fixing her screw ups. Not this time though, this time Karma made a mess of things and she dragged Amy into it. There’s a reason Karma doesn’t involve Amy in her schemes and it’s because if something is going to blow up Karma’s going to take the hit, not Amy. Amy, who never wanted any of this, who has gotten nothing out of this but a headache and couple free baked goods from over-enthusiastic LGBTQ+ allies.

“If we’re faking it would I do _this?_ ”

About to save Amy from biting the metaphorical bullet, Karma is interrupted by Amy swinging her closer, her gaze dropping to Karma’s lips. _No way,_ Karma thinks. _What are you thinking?_ She wants to ask but they’re standing in front of the sophomore class so it’s not as if she can just ask what the fuck is running through Amy’s mind right now. In lieu of words, Karma takes the telepathic route, focuses her attention on Amy’s eyes then her lips then her eyes again. Their noses brush against each other and her eyelids fall shut before she knows what she’s doing.

In a split second, they’re kissing.

There’s cheering, Karma _knows_ there’s cheering. She can’t hear it though, not over the sound of her own heartbeat thrumming against her ribcage, in her veins, the back of her mind, and everywhere Amy is touching her. Her mind is fizzing and so are her fingertips. She’s got her hands on Amy and she thinks it’s like poprocks and coke; she’s going to _explode_.

 _“Whoa,”_ Karma whispers once she and Amy have stopped kissing. It comes out breathier than she’d intended, namely because Amy stole all hers.

She almost wants to _thank_ Amy for this, for taking one for the team so to speak. Except there’s no normal way of thanking your best friend for making out with you in front of a room full of virtual strangers. Besides, it’s not as if Amy _liked_ it. Actually she looks a bit freaked out. Not grossed out, thank God, but weird? Yeah, maybe Amy’s acting just a little bit weird but who could blame her? Public displays of affection can be really uncomfortable, especially if the person has social anxiety like Amy does. Supportive, Karma gives her a wide smile and whispers quietly enough so only Amy hears:

“Way to sell it!”

 

* * *

 

 

The lesbian thing really turns Liam on.

It’s exhilarating, to say the least. He looks at Karma like she’s some kind of Sapphic goddess right out of his straight boy wet dreams. In between classes one morning she and Liam make out in the art room, tucked away from prying eyes. Ever since she and Amy kissed in the auditorium, Karma’s understood how addiction erodes everything else. Her mouth is aching, she wants so much to keep kissing. It’s an itch she can’t scratch, a hunger she can’t satisfy. Liam meets her excitement twofold with roaming hands and parted lips. Liam’s eagerness is infectious, spreading from him to Karma everywhere their bodies meet.

It’s when he starts talking about sex that Karma feels herself hit the brakes.

He reads her shock as doubt then starts talking about consent and comfort and it’s okay if she doesn’t want to do that. The whole time he’s talking, Karma keeps thinking about how she thought this moment might _never_ happen.

Last year, her parents had bought her condoms and gave her The Talk for the thousandth time. Growing up with her family, Karma knew about safe sex and health too well to be bothered by it anymore. That is, of course, until right now. Funnily enough, safe sex is a lot safer on paper. Glossy pages full of medical diagrams and instructions on birth control methods and a directory of resources for teen pregnancy and abortion and health clinics and anonymous hotlines. To Karma it had felt like school, a study guide and pop quiz and she wouldn’t have to worry about it applying to her real life just like trigonometry or 16th century European history.

She assures Liam she’s fine though, certain she’s getting what she wanted all along. Besides, he’s done this before so even if she’s the worst at it then he’ll still be good to go. Although, Karma _does_ wonder what it will be like to have sex for the first time on a table in the middle of her high school. She worries if it’ll be awkward or hurt of if she’ll bleed.

Turns out she has no reason to get all worked up anyway because they’re interrupted before they can get anywhere further than groping.

“You should really have a doctor check that out!” She advises, her pitch higher than usual because as much shit as she gives Amy for being a bad liar Karma’s not the best at it either.

Hightailing it the hell out of there, Karma feels her stomach lurch and bile work its way up the back of her throat. She swallows it though, tells herself she’s just got a bad case of nerves. She likes Liam, she really does.

_She does, she does._

 

* * *

 

“Guess who’s having a super-secret, sexy affair with Liam Booker?”

Karma’s bragging but only a little, she’s proud of herself is all. With practically no effort at all, she’s boosted herself from _nobody_ to teen royalty over the course of more than a week or two. It feels exactly how she always imagined it would: fantastic. And yet, Amy _still_ seems apprehensive. Karma doesn’t understand _why_ though because if things work out with Liam then she and Amy can stage a fake break up in a couple months, go back to being besties for life, and Karma and Liam can be Hester High’s power couple. It’ll be awesome, no doubt about it.

They’re curled up on top of Amy’s covers, talking about Karma’s torrid affair and Amy’s pretending she’s not miffed even though she _obviously_ is. Her head is resting just below Karma’s chest though and she’s holding Karma’s hand, which is good because if she was really pissed off then they wouldn’t be resting together.

“I’m not upset,” Amy argues in her Upset Voice. Wisely, Karma remains silent.

“I just don’t want to move.”

Well, Karma knows how to remedy that situation. Letting go of Amy’s hand, she claps her hands and watches the room fall dark. Not for the first time, Karma entertains the thought that Amy probably gets a power trip from the clap light. Playing God, making this loud sound and lighting up the world. The stars are so bright above them, glowing green in the otherwise blackened room.

“Remember when we put those up because you were scared of the dark?”

“I wasn’t scared,” Amy argues again because she’s got a reputation to protect. “I was _anxious._ ”

It’s semantics to anyone else but Karma knows the difference for Amy. Amy’s not _scared_ of things, she’s actually quite indifferent or disinterested or unimpressed or annoyed but never scared. Being scared of something implies it’s senseless and goes away after the scary thing has been removed. For Amy, anxiety is the opposite. Anxiety makes sense because it’s born from a bad experience or a perceived threat or a lack of understanding. It exists even after the anxiety inducing thing has been taken away.

She was anxious of the dark because she couldn’t see what was happening if the lights were turned off. “ _If the dark is nothing to be anxious about then why does everyone always say not to go outside at nighttime?”_ Amy contended and Karma had to admit she made a good point. Social situations spurred anxiety in Amy because she found them exhausting and unnecessary for the most part. People were difficult because they were unpredictable. They might say one thing but mean another or they might say something and Amy won’t understand them quite right. She’s awkward and feels out of place, which is why she avoids what she considers “pointless” interactions. Her actual social anxiety is not severe in that it doesn’t hinder her daily life but it’s enough that Amy is content to not engage. Karma’s mother calls her an introvert and an old soul. _Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe._

In real time, Amy and Karma talk about Homecoming and Karma considering having sex and Amy’s accusation that Karma used to want to wait for someone special. Karma doesn’t get the chance to think too much about Amy’s comment though before the room lights back up, awakened by the presence of Mrs. Raudenfeld walking in with a laundry basket in tow.

“What are you girls doing?” She asks with a lilt to her question that makes Karma feel like she was doing something wrong even though she wasn’t.

Over the years, Amy’s mother has become quite adept at making Karma feel like she’s always saying or doing the wrong thing. Karma knows it’s worse for Amy though, who has to live with her. All the same, she feels like maybe Mrs. Raudenfeld wouldn’t be as suspicious if Karma and Amy weren’t as close as they are. Karma decides she doesn’t have the time to dwell on that either.

 

* * *

 

 _I’m not uncomfortable,_ Karma tells herself while she feels Liam pressed up against her. _It’s just crowded back here._

She and Liam are in the backseat of his car, probably fogging up the windows, and about to have sex. The whole place smells of leather from the seats and Liam’s body spray. It makes Karma’s head dizzy and she’s not going to vomit, _she’s not, she’s not._ She’s just nervous about looking like she knows what she’s doing. Liam has so much experience and Karma’s only kissed three people and that heinously awkward round of _spin the bottle_ shouldn’t count so really she’s only kissed two people. Basically, Karma is woefully underprepared for the occasion. She wants this though, of course she does, and now she’s getting it. She’s getting Liam Booker. Relieved by this new line of thought, Karma expresses how much she’s wanted Liam and he returns the sentiment.

And it’s _wow._

He’s wanted her all along? Karma can’t believe it, is totally willing to buy that this is all a dream because if turned out Liam Booker wanted her all along then it changes everything. It means he cares and this is can be special. Trying not to sound stupidly enthusiastic, Karma asks, “How long have you wanted me?”

His answer his breathless and his voice desperate, wanting. He doesn’t hesitate to say the lesbianism got his attention, got his blood pumping like it would for any heterosexual guy. Taken aback, Karma isn’t sure if it’s the admission itself or the honesty with which he expressed it that makes her most uncomfortable. Whatever it is it gets Karma out of the car, rushing back to the school where she’s supposed to walk around with Amy on her arm, soaking up the limelight. And oh God, does she ever want to talk to Amy, tell her how right she was about Liam, about everything. She wants her first time to be with someone who wants _her_ for _her._

The second she’s out of Liam’s car Karma doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

“I’m right here, mother.”

Confidence rings in Amy’s voice when she places the Homecoming crown atop her head. Karma’s never been so proud—or so stunned—by anything Amy’s done as she is in this moment. Amy is standing up to her mother, on live TV no less. She’s proud of herself too, Karma can tell. She wonders if it’s osmosis, happiness and honour transferring between them. Amy’s mother is less proud, more shocked. She keeps stammering about lesbians before directing the attention back to the newscasters back in the studio. It’d be funnier if it were happening to them but Karma thinks in a few years this’ll make a hilarious story.

“It felt good,” Amy confesses later once Karma’s had the chance to tell her how immeasurably blown away and impressed she is.

Amy may not actually be gay but she is tired of being walked all over and picked on by her own family. Defending herself isn’t something that comes to naturally to Amy, who seems to be coming into her.

They dance together because everyone expects them to but Karma thinks if she and Amy went to a school dance they end up dancing together at some point. It’s a sense of inevitability that doesn’t feel forced, something Karma might call fate. They dance a lot anyway, mostly at Karma’s house when they plug her iPod into the dock and jump around the house, goofing around.

Until tonight, actually, they never really slowed dance. During their after-grad dance, Amy and Karma shared one slow dance to _I Want It That Way_ because the Backstreet Boys are totally their jam and everyone dances with their friends so it wasn’t bizarre or anything. They talk while they dance because that feels nice too, just listening to Amy speak of her triumph, an act of rebellion.

Then Amy comments on Karma’s newly established “womanhood” and Karma has to tell her that she’s still the untouched, dying alone girl she was when they last spoke on the phone. Amy is suitably sympathetic although Karma’s sure she’s doing her best not to gloat and rub an _“I told you so”_ in her face. All the same, she graciously accepts defeat to Amy. Sex, for the first time at least, Karma wants to be special. She wants it to be a good memory and she wants it to leave a positive impression. When she tells Amy this, Karma is sure her friend will be proud. The thing is special isn’t exactly Karma’s forte. She’s been too ordinary to register her entire high school career thus far and the only thing that has gotten her out of purgatory had been her “coming out.”

Which is exactly why she needs Liam to see how extraordinary she can be.

“I’m going to make him fall in love with me,” she confesses to Amy as they sway together, their bodies pressed so close she can feel Amy’s body heat coming off in waves.

It’ll be worth it, Karma is certain. In the end, it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

 

* * *

 

Things sort of get out of hand when Liam gets all hot and bothered over Soleil.

Their _promance,_ for lack of a better term, throws a wrench in Karma’s whole _Make Liam Booker Love Me_ plan. Normally, she’d confide in Amy but she’s been acting weird about everything Liam related and really, Karma can only handle so much before she totally loses her cool. Soleil isn’t helping either with how she tries so hard to keep Liam hanging on her every last word.

Shane wasn’t kidding about the tension, although Karma’s feeling anything but sexual about it. Mostly, she’s feeling annoyed. Very, extremely, unbelievably annoyed. It’s also not fantastic that Soleil does actually have flawless skin and impossibly perky breasts and silky locks and Karma isn’t sure if she’s angrier that Soleil is subverting her endgame of if she wants to be Soleil: sexy and sure of herself and the apple of Liam’s eye.

When everything is said and done, _Occupy Hester_ already a fading memory in the students’ minds, Karma finally has the chance to catch her breath. If she thought faking being gay would present some obstacles then faking being as involved in social justice as her parents wish she were is a whole other ballgame. The past few days have been rigorous, what with Karma trying to keep up with Soleil and hold on to Liam’s waning attention. There is, however, a silver lining. She sang in front of a real, live, human audience for the first time and didn’t completely fuck it up. It’s a pretty momentous occasion, which she wants to share it with Amy.

Just as Karma suspected, Amy is at her locker. Her hair is shrouding her face and it seems blonder than usual, maybe because of the sunlight. It’s been beautiful weather these past few weeks. Amy has such a fair complexion she should really be more concerned about getting sunburnt but she never gets anything worse than a rosy flush to her skin, which fades away in a day. Amy’s lucky like that, to be so beautiful without even trying.

Linked to the end of that thought—like those awful plastic monkeys in a chain Karma used to play with in pre-K—is the memory of doing homework in the quad, working on the song she promised Amy would be the first to hear, and her and Amy’s kiss. The selfie she took of the two of them now has a couple hundred likes, having gone viral around Hester. Surely, Liam must be dying of jealousy or at least feeling lightheaded from a lack of regular blood circulation. Obviously Karma’s selfie game is on point but what else is new?

The desire to tell Amy about their newfound Instagram fame is mounting but it can wait until after Karma gets her post-show jitters out. Only Amy isn’t nearly as happy for Karma as she ought to be. In reality, she’s cheesed the fuck off and Karma has had it up to _here_ with this off and on bullshit Amy’s been pulling ever since she agreed to play along. If she had any sense, Karma would know when to leave a situation for some breathing room. Instead, she let’s Amy blow up at her and then she returns to favour.

“What do you even _know_ about Liam except he’s the hottest guy in school?” Amy accuses, her volume increasing a decibel.

Karma doesn’t back down though, she never learned how. Amy is shooting off at the mouth, which Karma takes as encouragement to do the same.

“I know that he’s into protesting things, and he fights against corporate greed, and he has _integrity_.”

It comes out sounding rushed, as if Karma’s trying to convince herself when really, she’s trying to make Amy understand. All she wants is for Amy to understand for even a second _why_ all of this is important. Because if Amy understands then it won’t matter that sometimes it doesn’t add up quite right in Karma’s own head and it’s happening more and more frequently now, the picture not coming together as clearly as it should be.

Karma wants Liam, she _really, truly_ does. But then why did she race out of the back of his car like she was escaping Hell itself? And why does she think boys are cute and sexy but bile inches up her throat if she talks to one? And why the ever loving fuck does she wants to hold Amy’s hand but she’s so _angry_ at her for not understanding. Karma doesn’t know the answers, which is why she doesn’t usually ask herself those questions in the first place. They’re only resurfacing in her mind because Amy is shouting:

“Maybe he can lend you some!”

It’s a verbal slap to the face, poignant enough to hurt.

“So what if I like the hottest guy in school? I’m a fucking teenage girl!” Karma shouts back even though she’s reeling, the world shattering all around her.

She keeps reminding herself that she kissed Amy this morning, felt her soft lips and tenderness. This isn’t the same girl, this isn’t the Amy she grew up with or befriended or asked to be her fake girlfriend. She’s angrier and she’s _hurting_ Karma and Karma didn’t even know Amy was capable of that.

Karma storms off after her metaphorical mic drop. She doesn’t know where she’s going until she sees Liam and some kind of calm washes over her for a moment, as if he’s this normal thing amongst the madness. At least with Liam, Karma _knows_ there’s a chance of getting hurt. Unlike with Amy, who blindsided her.

Watching Liam climb into that _Swerkle_ woman’s car is jarring though, confusing. Karma doesn’t know what to do or say, she feels frozen. Apparently, she and Amy aren’t the only ones with a secret.

 

* * *

 

Karma ends up texting Liam later that night.

They talk about the day’s protest, how it was going so well before Lauren descended on the masses. Karma decidedly omits the fact she saw Liam climb in the back of that car earlier, thinks some things are better left unknown. She also doesn’t mention her fight with Amy, although she’s unsure why. The last time she confided in Liam about her “relationship” with Amy they ended up kissing for the second time. Surely, he’d pounce on this opportunity to get in Karma’s pants. She doesn’t mention it anyway.

When Liam sends a raunchier text, Karma goes into her conversation threads and deletes Amy’s. It’s not guilt, she tells herself. She just doesn’t want to accidentally send her reply to Amy and give Amy even more reason to hate her, ammunition in a war Karma didn’t realize they were fighting until she was in the thick of it. They don’t get very far into their conversation before Karma feels pressure building in her temples. _It’s nothing,_ she assures herself. _It’s nothing._

The time on her phone reads 11:15pm.

**It’s getting late. Ttyl?**

Liam’s reply comes back in a minute: **You know it. Sweet dreams**

The message leaves Karma feeling lighter than she has since her performance on stage earlier in the afternoon. Turning off the screen’s light off, she turns over in bed and wills herself to fall asleep. It takes a while before she’s actually out and when she is, Karma has the same dream.

She’s walking around campus with Amy’s hand in hers, the sun on their skin, their smiles twofold. Then she turns to see Liam smiling at her, his hand outstretched like an offer, and Karma takes it every time. She moves towards Liam like he’s got a gravitational pull, her grip on Amy loosening until they’re two separate people again. When Karma turns back to check that Amy’s still there, she’s always proven wrong. Amy’s not there.

“Where’s Amy?” She asks Liam, time and time again.

Liam never answers, instead he kisses her hard.

Each morning when Karma wakes up breathless with her blankets knotted around her hips, she tells herself that her shortness of breath isn’t suffocation, it’s having her breath taken away.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days after their late night texting, Karma and Liam slip out of their respective homeroom classes.

They meet in a supply closet, which may not be the most romantic location in the world but it’ll do, and Karma takes off her bra but keeps her top on. Liam unbuttons his shirt and removes his belt. Karma loses her shirt shortly after and Liam shucks down his pants.

Liam tells her she’s beautiful and talented and passionate. He tells her she’s a good kisser and the hottest girl he’s ever met; he tells her what she wants to hear.

With her eyes closed, Karma moves on autopilot until she loses all sense of herself. She kisses Liam with every ounce of herself trying, trying so goddamn hard to make it feel as wonderful as she made it up to be in her mind. She kisses him until she can’t kiss him anymore.

He agrees with her when she suggests they go back to class lest they get found out. She dresses herself quickly, awkwardly. She lets him kiss her lips once more. Tells herself she likes the way his gaze never quite meets her own.

 

* * *

 

 

“I think your mother thinks I’m Medusa,” Karma announces as she slips into Amy’s bedroom a couple mornings after their fight.

Rather than answer with words, Amy draws her covers over her face when she sees Karma walk in. Karma doesn’t let it faze her.

“She thinks I’m going to turn her to stone if she looks me in the eye.”

Amy doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even pretend to be amused. She rolls on to her side, facing away from Karma instead. Karma tries again anyway.

“Bruce asked me if I played golf, which was probably his attempt at polite conversation but can you imagine me doing anything sports related? I have the physical capacities of a dying animal.”

“I’m not going to apologize for being a teenager,” Karma comments offhandedly. “You can’t expect that from me.”

A pillow flies across the room, only a hair away from Karma’s face. She frowns and picks it up off the floor. It smells like Amy’s shampoo, something Karma didn’t know she had committed to memory until she realized she could tell if Amy entered a room before she came into Karma’s field of vision.

“You can’t keep ignoring me.”

Infuriating silence. The room is too still; the calm before the storm.

“You don’t have to forgive me but you don’t get to be a bitch about it either!”

No answer.

“You know what?” She asks even though it’s rhetorical, the first time she doesn’t want to hear an answer. “I’m _trying_ Amy. I’m talking to you and you’re not even paying attention.”

Honestly, Karma doesn’t know what she expected in response. Probably no response at all. Instead she gets Amy pushing back the covers and then series of pillows being whipped at her face. Instinctively, Karma dodges as many as she can until Amy runs out. She sitting up on the bed with the blankets over her knees and her hair rumpled from sleep and a hardened look in her eye.

“You’re not the sun, Karma. You’re not the centre of the fucking universe, okay?”

It’s a low blow, they both know it but Amy’s too angry to give a shit and Karma’s done with this passive-aggressive bullshit. They’re past that now, they’ve moved on to aggressive/aggressive and it suits Karma just fine. She picks the pillows up and starts whipping them right back, barely registering how Amy tries to miss them.

“You didn’t have to agree,” Karma accuses because on that rooftop she gave Amy an out and Amy sacrificed when she kissed her in the auditorium. That was Amy’s choice and Amy’s alone. Amy, of course, doesn’t see this way.

She expresses as much in her bitter, “Well it’s not like you gave me much of choice!”

“Oh please,’ Karma scoffs. “Stop acting as if you’re some kind of helpless pawn. You kissed me _first!”_

The second the words rip from Karma’s lips they shatter on the ground between her and the foot of Amy’s bed. Karma’s shaking with accusation and rage and defensiveness. She didn’t know what she was going to say, didn’t know she had even been thinking when it’s so apparent now that it had been on her mind for the past weeks. But then Amy’s eyes are welling up like she’s about to break down into tears if Karma doesn’t do something to fix this whole fucking mess. Karma doesn’t get the chance to feel bad though, not before Amy shouts a tearstained:

_“I hate you!”_

Amy has told Karma she hates her many times over the years, too many times for Karma to have kept track of. She’s said it when Karma made her take hip hop dance classes with her in the fourth grade. She said it when Karma tickled her in her even though—probably because—Amy hated it. She said it when Karma spoiled the season one _Game of Thrones_ season finale. She said it casually and frequently but it never meant anything before. It was a default response right up there with, _“fuck off.”_

It would even be kind of funny to Karma if it didn’t hurt so much. The pitch of Amy’s voice had gotten Valley Girl high when she said it. Karma wants to laugh but mostly she wants to scream. She wants to hurt Amy as much as she’s hurting now. Karma came here to talk things out only now they’re yelling and Amy’s mother and Bruce and Lauren all downstairs. They can probably hear every word and if they can’t then they’re probably feeling tremendously uncomfortable about Karma and Amy alone in her room together. Well, Mrs. Raudenfeld and Bruce would feel awkward. Lauren not so much. Lauren, who made a wiseass comment about Amy’s nail biting habit and having short fingernails. They’re remarkably similar in that way, Amy and Lauren. That’d probably pretty funny too, in any other situation.

Karma keeps trying to come up with a response, something as agonising as Amy’s but all she can think of is: _I hate you too, you huge fucking bitch!_

Somehow, it likely won’t be as effective.

She says it anyway.

She shouts it, actually.

_“I hate you too!”_

_“Good!”_ Amy encourages, her voice fiercer than Karma’s ever heard before. It sounds feral.

It’s a single syllable but it’s enough to blur Karma’s vision red. She’s charging forward a second later, doesn’t stop even once her knees collide with Amy’s mattress. She climbs atop and descends on Amy’s body like she’s prey, grabs her by the shoulders, and forces her down on to the bed. There’s some struggle but Karma doesn’t make the connection to a physical fight until she’s got her hands around Amy’s wrists, squeezing them too tightly. Amy’s got a hand in Karma’s hair, gripping a chunk of it like she’s planning on ripping it right out.

There’s blood on Karma’s lip, her tongue pokes out to dab at it. It tastes like copper. She doesn’t notice it belongs to Amy until she opens her eyes to Amy’s staring right back at hers. Their mouths are harsh against one another, moving too forcefully. It’s a good ache though, makes Karma thinks about a conversation she and Amy had back when this all started. She told Amy it was better to hurt than feel nothing. At the time she hadn’t been talking physically although the link is clear now. Her thoughts are all stained red, they’re all so angry and tangled in a series of knots she can’t get undone. She ignores them, shoves them out of the way long enough to get her hands off Amy’s shoulder and to her chest.

On Karma’s exposed belly, where her shirt has ridden up, Amy’s rubbing her thumbs in circles that make Karma’s head spin in the most incredible way, her hips swaying with the motion. From her position below, Amy looks up with bruised lips and hooded eyes.

“I never slept with Liam,” Karma tells her in a rush, her voice low.

“You said,” Amy confirms while her thumbs move up Karma’s ribcage.

It takes Karma apart.

“Your parents are downstairs.”

Amy doesn’t bat an eye as her palms roam over Karma’s torso. “I don’t care.”

“Lauren could walk in,” Karma warns but her skin is heating up and her heart is beating in her throat and she’s never felt more aware of her own body as she does right now.

“Lauren can go back to whichever level of Hell she crawled out of.”

“Alright,” Karma let’s out because well, yeah, she agrees that Lauren can go fuck herself and yeah, she’s pretty done with any conversation that isn’t comprised of Amy say R-rated language in the throes of unadulterated passion.

“Good,” Amy repeats without the hostility she possess the first time she shouted it across the room.

 

* * *

 

 

They didn’t end up having sex, much to Karma’s great surprise.

They did, however, get as hot and heavy as they could before anyone got too suspicious and came up to check on them. There was kissing and touching and Karma staring down at the determination in Amy’s face, the sweat beading her hairline. If she had known it would feel as good as it had then Karma would have fake dated Amy _way_ sooner.

Karma sat on Amy’s bed while Amy got ready for school. It was pretty quiet between them but it was an infinitely better silence than when Amy was completely ignoring Karma. When they came downstairs the house was empty. There was a note on the kitchen table from Amy’s mom, wishing her a good day and a twenty dollar bill to buy lunch at school. It was a new routine the two Raudenfeld women worked out. Farrah would avoid Amy whenever Karma was around and Amy would pretend like it didn’t matter. Sometimes Amy wondered if she had anyone else as a “girlfriend” would her mother be less weird around Karma. She isn’t entirely sure if she wants to know the answer.

On the walk to school Karma takes a detour she and Amy used to use when they really didn’t want to get to school right away. They sit on the downy earth, grass staining their outfits. Neither speaks until they both start at the same time.

“You first,” Amy insists.

Karma bites her lip. “I still want Liam to love me.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, no shit, but she says it anyway. The colour drains right out of Amy’s face and her jaws clicks.

“I don’t think it’ll work though,” she confesses in this small voice that doesn’t belong to her.

Amy meets her eye, “What gives you that impression? I mean you’ve been so successful with all your other schemes so far.”

“Because I can’t even make myself love him.”

The admission embarrasses Karma, as if she’s ashamed of herself. Amy can’t register that though, she’s too busy being stunned.

_“Elaborate.”_

Everything has been leading up to this moment, Karma knows, and yet she’s still not ready for it. Taking a deep breath, she tries to sort out the messy, linking thoughts in her head, the ones that get tangled up in each other too often. She thinks of Liam, how his kisses felt so good because they were proof. Proof of what though? Someone wanting her? Someone popular wanting her? They felt like a promise, what all those fairy-tales Karma watched growing up always guaranteed. The handsome prince who sweeps the princess off her feet, the romantic kiss that sets their destiny as madly, eternally in love. Significant. The princess never kisses her girl-next-door best friend. The princess doesn’t go back to the ordinary life she lived before. She’s changed and whether it’s for the better might not actually matter in the end. Not when everyone is rooting for that grand finale, show stopping kiss. Happily ever after means not looking back and Karma was willing to commit to that until this morning, anyway.

“Liam and I kiss and it feels _so good_ but not for any of the right reasons.”

“What _are_ the right reasons?” Amy challenges, her eyes widening with something awfully close to knowing.

“Whatever it is that makes me kiss you.”

Amy smiles then, her whole face lighting up. She looks happier than Karma’s seen in days, maybe since that moment when Karma looked out into the crowd at the open mic performance and saw Amy in the crowd, smiling up at her with all this adoration that Karma didn’t know what to do with.

“I was starting to think you forgot how to do that,” Karma jokes, knocking her shoulder into Amy’s.

Amy shoves her back playfully, “I’m chipper as fuck, I’ll have you know.”

It’s wonderful coming back to this place where she and Amy can laugh about things again. They’ve only been fighting for a week but it’s been a lifetime in Karma years. She shoves Amy back, the same place she had pinned down earlier this same morning.

“And I’m the queen of England,” Karma deadpans.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier, about hating you.” Amy apologizes with such heartfelt honesty it humbles Karma just to hear it.

“I don’t hate you, I just said I did because I hate fighting with you and I hated feeling like you saw me as something disposable in your master plan to get Liam Booker in your pants.”

Reaching for Amy’s hand, Karma closes hers around it. “I don’t hate you either. Actually, I’m kind of in love with you, if you’d buy that.”

“Are you kidding?” Amy asks drolly, her expression the very picture of trumped up sarcasm. “Have you met me? Of course you’re crazy for me.”

With an exasperated face, Karma rolls her eyes and leans forward. “I want you to know I’m kissing you on the sole basis I want you to shut up, okay?”

“Believable.”

“I’m doing it,” Karma threatens. “I’m going to kiss you now, you better be ready.”

With her game face on, Amy leans in too. “I was born ready.”

“Okay then,” she singsongs when their lips are so close Karma can’t speak without them brushing. “On three.”

“One-”

“Two-”

Incidentally, they don’t get to three.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, guys. I just really think Karma should be bisexual. I mean, she should also be a lot less angsty but I fluffed it up at the end so that should count for something. Thanks for reading and have a beautiful day!


End file.
